"What's the matter, merc? Afraid of heights?"

"Who wouldn't be? That clanking can of yours is going to cave the floor!"

MacCready was grumbling all the way as he followed Captain Sturnn to the top of the Cambridge Construction Site, the custom X-01 power armor the woman was using obstructing most of his view as they climbed stairs and caved ceilings that functioned as stairs. Behind him, two Minutemen snipers followed, having been brought along for the ride as well.

Meanwhile, despite residing between the Castle and Jamaica Plain, he still continued as a 'freelance' mercenary because there was no way in hell he was ever going to officially join the Minutemen. Well, maybe not for now.

He supposed he did kind of like their hats and perhaps maybe he could be an honest to god soldier worthy of Duncan's admiration. He just wasn't all that enthusiastic about taking orders from someone as goody-goody like Preston Garvey. He could almost say the same of Aveline as well, but the vault dweller turned Minuteman lieutenant was the one responsible for watching his back as they explored Med-Tek and it was she who found the cure and handed it to him with no strings attached.

He meant what he said when he told her that this was a debt he could never repay. Thanks to her efforts, he had recently received news that the cure was actually doing its work. While it would be a slow recovery process and it would still be a while before Duncan could be back to his energetic self, he found joy in the knowledge that his son was no longer on the brink of death.

And sure, maybe he grumbled and complained here and there, but if lending his sharpshooter skills to the Minutemen every once in a while made his son's savior happy, then so be it.

"If this place hasn't crumbled beneath the weight of all the muties that had been crawling around here, then you don't need to worry about my armor," the captain responded in a deadpan manner, which had MacCready rolling his eyes. The group eventually reached the very top of the construction site, careful to watch their footing around the many holes and ruined floors lest they trip and fall. And it would be a long fall for any unfortunate soul who ended up being careless at this height.

Kayla stopped walking and the others followed suit, taking a moment to admire the rising sun in the horizon, before setting her Gatling Laser onto the floor and activating the release hatch of her armor, which made a hissing noise as it opened up and allowed her to step out.

MacCready looked in her direction and couldn't help but end up staring at her more than he would've thought appropriate. Aveline had mentioned that the captain resembled Curie but he only saw the similarities when it came to her eyes and the shape of her face. Other than that, Kayla had her hair tied in a bun, had a shade of tan on her skin and a toned and well-fit body, no doubt from all the training she's had since her…'past occupation'.

"Got a thing for staring, merc?"

The captain's voice snapped MacCready out of his thoughts and he noticed that the woman was looking at him over her shoulder, the corners of her mouth turning downwards into her typical professional frown. Not pissed, but not exactly liking the idea of being stared at for too long either.

The ex-Gunner pretended to cough as the two Minutemen accompanying them snickered. Kayla fully turned around to glare at them and they immediately shut up.

"Name's MacCready in case you forgot, lady," he said as he regained his composure. The other two soldiers went even more deathly quiet after that. No one in their right mind talked back to the Captain in such a manner. She looked back at him with a quirked eyebrow and he could have sworn he saw the corner of her mouth twitch upwards into a smirk before pressing her lips back into a thin line.

"Watch your mouth, kid," she said with more professionalism than malice, "You're hired help and nothing more. You want to brag about being a crackshot since you were a brat and being the best sniper on this side of the Commonwealth? I'm giving you the chance to prove you're more than a common mercenary. Any problem with that, merc?"

The woman was just begging for a challenge now and MacCready would have been more than happy to oblige if it wasn't for the fact that they would be getting carried away from the task at hand.

"No problem at all…ma'am," he responded, noticing the satisfied glint in the woman's eyes.

"Good," Kayla curtly responded.

Once everyone was behaving themselves, she took out a pair of binoculars from the storage compartment of her armor and walked a little closer to the edge of the top floor, motioning for the others to join her.

MacCready now understood why she wanted to set up camp here. From the spot they were in, they could see all of Bunker Hill and its entire vicinity. This was the best choice of a front row seat to watch the battle without having to worry about a loose shot hitting you in the face. All they needed was popcorn.

But he knew that they weren't here to treat this like a sideshow attraction.

"I was right about this place," she seemed to be saying that mostly to herself, "From here, we can see the entire battle unfold without worrying about being spotted," the captain said.

"Ma'am?" one of the snipers spoke up, "What about the Brotherhood's vertibirds?"

She turned around and stood in her typical militaristic posture, hands clasped behind her back and a look in her eyes that meant she was all business as she stared at the trio following her command.

"They will be expected to show up in the battle, but I'm certain they will be too busy dropping troops and raining suppressive fire to notice us picking off their infantry. Even if they do take note of the sniper nest we'll be setting up, those gunships of theirs will have a tough time tracking us all the way up here," she explained, "Brotherhood vertibirds aren't as resilient or durable as the ones the Enclave have used. That's the price of mass production."

"Now then, Sgt. Reinhart, Sgt. Kamille," she turned to look at the ex-Gunner, "…MacCready. Let me clear the air up for the three of you."

Kayla moved a little, relaxing her stiff shoulders.

"I've shared some of the details with you all on the way here, so I hope you all understand our mission by now. Bunker Hill must not fall into the hands of the Brotherhood of Steel nor the Institute." One of her hands clenched into a fist and drove it into the palm of her other hand, a punctuation that this was not up for debate.

"If anyone is going to put that settlement in order, it will be the Minutemen. But for us to move in, we need to make sure the Railroad wins this battle because the organization in question seem to have bitten off way more than they could chew and it has fallen on us to make sure they don't end up choking themselves."

"It's become clear to us that the Brotherhood of Steel are as much a threat to the Commonwealth and to the order we wish to establish in this land as is the Institute. However, the General insists that involving ourselves at such a critical stage of this war would be an unwise move. At the moment, we do not know yet where the Institute is hiding. And if we openly begin hostilities with the Brotherhood so soon, they'll obviously go after The Castle, as to prevent our artillery from giving the Prydwen and everyone on board a special V.I.P. tour of the bottom of the Boston coastline."

'Yeesh, that's cold,' MacCready thought, 'She really doesn't like the Brotherhood.'

"So…" Kayla pulled out what looked to be a folded rifle from another storage container on her suit, "We will set up our vantage point here and wait patiently for the battle to start. Understood?" she asked as she put the rifle together, revealing the sheer size and build of that thing.

'Is that an honest to god Anti-Materiel Rifle?' MacCready thought as he stared at the captain's weapon in awe. Those rifles were slightly more common in the West Coast but were few and far between in the East Coast. The handful of people here who could obtain one were those who had to pull some strings to get one sent over from coast to coast.

'She can be a bitch sometimes, but damn does she have good taste in weapons,' MacCready had to suppress a smirk that threatened to spread. He hasn't had much opportunity to chat with Kayla but he now found himself admiring her a little more than the usual.

"Yes, ma'am," the other two snipers answered. MacCready did not answer and he couldn't bring himself to care much about the glare the captain sent his way.

"Very well. Keep in mind though, that your targets are the plastic chrome domes of the Institute should they show up, as well as Brotherhood soldiers, which can be recognized by either their power armor or the standard issue fatigues typically worn by their lower ranking members. Anyone else is not to be shot as they are most likely Railroad agents or settlers within Bunker Hill. I will not tolerate friendly fire."

"Now, take a few minutes for yourselves and come back when you're done with your break. Dismissed."

The two Minutemen saluted and went their way; Sgt. Reinhart went to a corner of the room and began setting up his rifle. Sgt. Kamille sat in another corner against a wall, lighting up a cigarette and busying himself looking for ammunition in his pack.

MacCready figured he could use a smoke break of his own but he went to the lower floor, trying his best not to look down through the open spaces lest he suffer vertigo at the long height. He took out his pack and pulled a cigarette out. Just as he lit it and was about to place it between his lips, slender fingers plucked it right out of his own.

Captain Sturnn had followed him and if she seemed amused at the ex-Gunner's befuddled expression, she did not show it as she put the cigarette between her lips and took a long drag.

"For a merc, you're quite the gentleman," Kayla said, a teasing lilt to her voice that would have been difficult to notice due to her slightly stony expression.

'Oh, so that's how it's gonna be?' MacCready thought to himself as he pulled out another and lit, holding it lightly between his teeth before the captain could snatch that one too. The two of them leaned back against a concrete wall and continued their break in relative silence. Kayla eventually flicked her cigarette away and turned to look at the mercenary.

"You must think us insane for choosing to go to war with the Brotherhood." Not a question, a statement rather, if her nonchalant expression was anything to go by.

"Insane? That's putting it mildly," MacCready responded. Not a lot of folks out there were keen on going to war with an advanced army like the Brotherhood of Steel and they themselves knew that. They felt like it was their given right to order around others and take what they wanted because in their mind, only they knew what was best for humanity.

But that hubris could prove to be their very downfall, if the result of the NCR-Brotherhood War was anything to go by. It would only be a matter of time before they pissed off the wrong people and end up suffering a similar humiliation to their west coast brethren.

"And yet, you're sticking around with us. You could've taken the caps we paid up front and run far from the Commonwealth to avoid the coming shitstorm," she continued, hand under her chin as if thinking heavily about something, "No matter how much you deny it, you seem more…honorable than the typical mercenary."

'Honorable? That's a new one!'

MacCready burst out laughing like he just heard the best joke since his days in Little Lamplight. Kayla only raised an eyebrow at his sudden burst, not annoyed but not seeing what was so funny either.

"Sorry," he apologized as his laughter died down, "Sorry about that…it's just…Look lady, I've been called a lot of things and 'honorable' was probably the last thing I expected."

"Hmm, I guess that might have to do with your past as a Gunner," she said and noticed MacCready flinch at the mention of it, "But I'm not going to criticize you for that. Given my past, that would be immensely hypocritical of me."

He turned to look at Kayla and was surprised to see a look of understanding, one which made it clear that she did not care to bring out other people's dirty laundry unless they tried to bring out hers.

'Guess she isn't too much of a ruthless bitch that others make her out to be.'

"Still, the question remains…" she began as her eyes turned steely, "Are you okay with this? Our mission?"

She seemed to be giving him an out and if someone like Captain Kayla Sturnn was telling him to think twice about it, then it could only mean that things are definitely going to get more dangerous from here. But he couldn't turn back. A contract is a contract and he was going to stand by it, even if it was perhaps against his better judgment.

He wasn't a big fan of the Brotherhood of Steel, even during the days of the Lyons regime, but he had to admit that they did some good out there. But after the Lyons kicked the bucket and command eventually fell upon one Arthur Maxson, he found no reason to become a fan of them at all. They became too intense, acting like they were the greatest gift to this forsaken wasteland and they took whatever they needed or wanted, sometimes by force.

In his eyes, they were just well armed glorified raiders who decided to brush their flaws and questionable acts away under the guise of saving humanity. So yeah, to him, maybe the Brotherhood indeed needed to be taken down a notch or two. A good ass-kicking to remind them that they aren't as mighty as they think they are would be a good start.

"Yeah…" he said as he threw away his cigarette, "Yeah, I'm okay with this."

…

Aveline relayed herself early in the morning to the entrance of the Old North Church. She could have teleported right into HQ but that would not have been the wisest decision, knowing that she would end up spooking the other agents. Plus, she wasn't sure if the Institute was able to track her to wherever she relayed but she'd rather not risk them finding the Railroad headquarters.

'Come to think of it, I should have teleported maybe a little further away from here.'

She felt like she was treading on thin ice with the Desdemona enough as it is, especially after yesterday's talk and she did not need to fuel the woman's paranoia more than it was already.

Aveline couldn't help but think about the boss as she made her way through the catacombs. She wanted to be angry with her. Angry at Dez for distrusting her so easily, after everything she had accomplished; everything she had done for the Railroad. She believed that there might have truly been something between them after all the tender moments they shared in private.

"You can't trust everyone, Charmer. Especially in our line of work."

Supposedly words of wisdom from her fellow partner in crime.

She wanted to be angry but part of her also wanted to understand. She remembered Deacon's words and realized that was what Desdemona was all about. 'Trust no one' had practically become her personal creed, one she would always live by though whether the boss had a similar mentality before joining the Railroad was unknown to her. If anything, Aveline was one of the lucky few to see a slightly warm side to the usually hardened and emotionally-distant woman.

The blonde woman stopped in her tracks after walking past the puzzle door, wondering if she should have second thoughts about coming here. She couldn't see Desdemona straight away, not with the mess of feelings she had towards her and definitely not when she believed there was a lot to think over.

But time was of the essence and it was not going to give her the luxury to overthink things. This was a serious matter and she needed to at least warn Dez about the danger headed towards Bunker Hill.

She honestly did not know what good that would do though. She doubted the boss and her agents would have time to set up proper defenses in that settlement, especially if it was a full scale attack.

'Come on, Aveline. Look at the bright side. It's just you and the Courser. Get rid of X4-18 and the Railroad won't have anything to worry about, right?'

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that this looked like some shameless attempt to score some trust points with Desdemona.

'No. Not like that. I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do,' she thought to herself.

But what was the 'right thing' to do? Even the 'right' thing to do in times of war was just a blurry of grey. She could deal with black and white…but grey?

She took a deep breath and moved on towards the HQ before she could break her rule on not overthinking things. She did not want to be late to rendezvous with X4-18 lest she lose her chance to at least keep the courser on a leash when they arrive at Bunker Hill.

"Oh, hey Charmer," Drummer Boy greeted the agent as she made her way down the stairs, "If you've got a moment, Tom-"

"Sorry Drummer," Aveline interrupted him with a half-hearted apology, "But I've got some really urgent business. Where's Dez?"

"Oh…she's in PAM's room," he responded, "Why? What's going on?"

But he would not get an answer as Charmer rushed over to the other room, unaware of the watchful eyes that Glory fixed on her when she passed by her workbench. She stepped through the doorway, her searching eyes easily spotting the ginger haired woman.

Desdemona had her back to anyone who would come into this room. She sat in front of her and PAM's private terminal, slightly hunched over as one of her hands kept moving over the keyboard, tapping on random keys, while the other held a small glass half-way filled with the unmistakable amber liquid that was bourbon. Charmer spotted two empty bottles of the familiar alcohol and a third one that was already half empty.

Aveline watched her boss as she brought the glass to her lips and knocked back the drink. She paused momentarily whatever it was that she was doing on the terminal as she took the bottle and filled up her glass again.

As far as the blonde was aware, the Railroad Alpha was not a heavy drinker, definitely not one to do so this early in the morning. She sadly wondered if her sudden penchant for drinking was an attempt to cope with the stress and worry about Bunker Hill.

…Or if the boss was feeling troubled and unsure about pushing Aveline and perhaps everyone else away on an emotional level.

'Why Dez? Why are you doing this to yourself?' the blonde woman thought with a sigh.

"Desdemona," she called out in a hushed voice and the woman stilled for a moment before getting up from her seat and turning to focus her attention on the agent.

"Charmer," she greeted, quick to adopt her image of stoic and no nonsense leader to hide the fact that she had been staring blankly at a computer screen for the last hour, "I see unexpected visits are becoming a habit for you." Her neutral expression had Aveline guessing whether her quip was said in jest or in annoyance. Knowing Dez, it was most likely the latter.

"Well, what can I say, Dez? I'm just full of surprises," Aveline chuckled nervously, cringing at her own pathetic attempt at humor, while the other woman made no attempt whatsoever to laugh or even grimace. Her eyes glanced at the bottles on Dez's desk, "Huh, you've been drinking," She immediately mentally kicked herself for stating the most obvious thing in that room.

As if to drive the point home, Desdemona crossed her arms, small of her back leaning against the edge of her desk while quirking an eyebrow, almost as if wanting to shout 'No shit, Sherlock' via body language.

"So it would seem," she answered with a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she turned her head slightly to look at the empty bottles on her desk and then turned back to focus on Aveline, "But I'm certain that you're here for something else that does not have to do with whatever poison I choose to indulge myself with."

The blonde woman sighed. They were already starting on the wrong foot, with Desdemona being more easily irritated than before, a result of the stress, the alcohol and the lack of sleep she had been juggling with recently.

And yet, the woman still saw through her. She knew Aveline was here for a more serious matter and the blonde agent couldn't help but feel like all this talking, all this thinking was just some futile attempt of hers to stall the inevitable.

"The Institute is coming for Bunker Hill," the blonde woman began, "Shaun has sent me and a courser to recover the synths that you're hiding there."

"Hmm, I thought as much," Dez nonchalantly replied and Aveline was somewhat startled with how quick she was to reply. She was kind of expecting an awkward and tense silence, "Though I'm surprised that your son is sending just the two of you and not a small army of synths to recover them." She remained quiet, thinking carefully before she spoke again.

"But then again, it does make sense to send as few people as possible. And knowing your skills Charmer, you could easily slip by our defenses while we are busy fighting off the Brotherhood."

"The Brotherhood? What does the Brotherhood of Steel have to do with Bunker Hill?" Aveline questioned with wide eyes. It wasn't possible. Had Shaun known about this? Had he forgotten to warn her?

No. He had mentioned that today would be the opportune time to strike. And the moment of hesitation…

She couldn't believe it. It seemed that her own son had deliberately kept her in the dark about the Brotherhood's involvement. What bullshit social experiment was he trying to pull on her now?!

"Did you not know? The Director didn't mention it or anything?" Dez asked and when the blonde shook her head, she went on to explain, "It seems the Brotherhood had been scouting Bunker Hill for a while now. They've become aware that there is a lot of Institute and Railroad activity there, so in their little crusade to 'cleanse the Commonwealth', they decided that a hostile takeover of the settlement would be necessary to put down what they deem as unsavory elements and to further their own goals."

She gazed intently at the woman in front of her, "Charmer, I'm aware of some of the work you do for the Minutemen. Mainly, working out trade routes and setting up supply lines. I don't think I need to explain to you the possible difficulties you would have to deal with if the Brotherhood ends up controlling the Commonwealth's traditional trade routes."

Aveline understood her point. Many of the Minutemen's settlements relied heavily on Bunker Hill's caravans, especially after her negotiations with Kessler and Old Man Stockton and with all the trading posts she had established in the more populous areas such as Sanctuary, Starlight, The Slog and County Crossing.

That kind of tactic was as old as the history of war itself. If your military might was not enough to gain the cooperation of the local populace, then the next logical step would be to plant your flag in their economical hubs.

She frowned at the thought that she might have underestimated Elder Maxson all this time. Ever since meeting him, she had thought him as a military brat with delusions of grandeur, despite Paladin Danse's assurance that one shouldn't judge his abilities on just his age. Couple that with the Brotherhood's penchant of utilizing the simple minded tactic of brute force and nothing else, she had not expected them to actually sit down and come up with a proper strategy for their mission.

She didn't want to think of herself as being complacent. Instead, she just had so much on her plate, juggling responsibilities between the Minutemen, the Railroad, and now the Institute, that she had to place her concerns about the Brotherhood on the proverbial backburner.

"I already have people at Bunker Hill and they're ready for a fight," Desdemona said, grabbing Aveline's attention once again, "It's a long shot but we need to do everything we can to stop the Brotherhood from gaining any sort of momentum."

"…Which leaves us with the Institute," she added, her jaw clenching and expression hardening as she walked towards Charmer.

"Desdemona…" the agent began but the woman raised her hand up, gesturing her to be quiet and all Aveline could do for the moment was stare back into Dez's scrutinizing gaze. After a few silent seconds, the older woman heaved a sigh and moved past the blonde.

"Wait," Aveline said and Dez stopped right next to her, shoulder to shoulder, the blonde turning to look at her boss, "…Aren't you going to ask me about what I might consider doing?" she asked.

A brief moment of silence stretched between them before Desdemona began to speak.

"I'm not going to beg you or implore you to fight with us and help the synths," she began, "Whatever you intend to do at Bunker Hill, will be your decision." Aveline slightly jumped when she felt a touch on her shoulder and noticed that Dez had gently placed her hand on it.

The blonde woman did not know what to make of the sudden contact. It was strange at first, considering that they had 'broken up' the day before, but it also felt…nice to be touched again by the woman she had come to love.

"However…" the Alpha's grip on the agents shoulder tightened a little more to have her focus on the warning to come, "No matter what you choose, be prepared for the consequences that go along with it."

Aveline looked from the corner of her eye to look at Desdemona, but the woman stared ahead of her instead of facing her agent.

"Whether you jump ship to the Institute or you decide to stay with us, the decision you make in the next hours will set the stage for the next act of this twisted play. From experience, I can tell you that every decision has a consequence. But how you deal with it will fall on you…Aveline."

Desdemona let go and made her way out the room they were in. Aveline stood rather still, the air heavy around her as she took in Dez's words.

"One more thing…" the blonde turned around to listen to her boss.

"Shouldn't you be on your way? I'm fairly certain that coursers are not well known for their patience.

The agent stood there for a moment before chuckling as she rubbed the back of her neck. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw Dez's lips twitch a little upwards before turning them down into her typical professional frown.

"Yeah…I'm actually a little early to the rendezvous but I'm hoping to catch him before he gets a chance to wreak havoc on the battlefield. Still, I'm gonna have to use the relay to avoid any further delays."

Desdemona watched as Aveline fiddled around with her Pip-Boy, typing in coordinates to whatever location she was going to jump to.

"…Dez?"

The Railroad leader looked attentively at the other woman.

"I'll see you later…I guess."

And in a sudden moment, the air crackled and the blonde agent was gone in a flash.

The ginger woman bowed her head a little, sighing weakly.

"…I hope so."

"What the hell was that?"

Desdemona turned around to find Glory standing in the doorway with an assault rifle in hand.

"Put the gun away, Glory. Charmer and I had a talk, nothing more," her voice sounded tired as she spoke.

"Right…" she responded, not completely convinced, "And that whole disappearing act?"

"She came to warn us about the Institute. It looks like they're going to make a move of their own on Bunker Hill, just as we suspected."

Glory cursed inwardly. A part of her relished the challenge of fighting both the Brotherhood and the Institute at the same time. But she was not overly trigger-happy to ignore the danger that such a situation would pose for the Railroad.

"So, any changes to the plan?"

"I'm afraid that would be up to Artemis since she is in charge of the operation there," Dez responded, "…Actually," she stood there for a moment, contemplating some ideas in her mind, "I suppose I do have something for you. I need you to head over to Ticonderoga and gather any agents or heavies they could spare and form up a small unit to provide backup for the rest of our people at Bunker Hill."

"I'm not sure of the numbers the Brotherhood or the Institute intends to throw at us but I'm damn certain the fighting is going to be intense and I need you and anyone else available to be ready to lend a hand."

"No need to tell me twice boss," Glory responded with a slight smirk, "Let me get my gun and I'll be ready to roll."

As Glory turned and left to fetch her minigun, Desdemona decided to also head out of PAM's room and make her way towards her desk. She felt a sudden shiver in her spine as she sat down by her personal radio, awaiting Artemis to call in. She looked down onto her hands and saw that they had become slightly clammy.

Maybe she should take a moment to go to Doctor Carrington. She was already overdue for a checkup…no, bad idea. The doctor would just complain and berate her for just about anything.

Sighing to herself, she patted the pockets of her blazer and her pants, cursing under her breath when she found them empty. She rubbed her temple as she leaned back in her chair.

"…I need a goddamn cigarette."

…

"All done," Artemis said to herself with a grin on her face as she placed a Nuka Mine in a carefully concealed spot on one of the roads leading to Bunker Hill. She had come across a small stockpile of Nuka Grenades and Mines that the Children of Atom had hidden away at Kingsport Lighthouse when she cleared out the place of the lunatics a few days back. She'll be putting them to better use now.

The battered roads and alleyways leading to the settlement had now been dotted with an assortment of mines and traps, and a warning had been sent to many traveling merchants and provisioners within the vicinity to avoid going to Bunker Hill for the day.

Meanwhile, she had counted over sixteen Heavies total, with the four from Mercer arriving during the middle of the night. They had their orders and were distributed around the settlement, guarding the entrances while others either went to patrol underground or make use of the vantage points that Bunker Hill's homes and the obelisk in the center of town offered. A handful of turrets have been built on a whim overnight to provide extra support along with a few more placed in the tunnels beneath the town where the synths were hiding.

The Huntress walked back and stood in front of the main gate of Bunker Hill, now locked and chained as two heavies armed with Railway Rifles stood guard, along with two machinegun turrets placed close to them. She looked up towards the obelisk and noticed the barrels of Gauss Rifles sticking out from the holes in the tower, ready to fire upon any approaching vertibirds.

Artemis had pulled out every possible trick she could think of to prepare for the coming battle. All that was left to do was hope that it would be enough to hold out against both the Institute and the Brotherhood, and bleed them dry of manpower and resources, to the point that they would eventually give up on taking the settlement and retreat.

But it was going to be easier said than done. The Institute had an unknown and possibly limitless supply of Gen-1's and 2's, programmed to kill and ready to be relayed in with a mere snap of fingers. The Brotherhood of Steel may not have as many bodies to throw as the Institute but they made up for that with their technology, ferocity in battle and relentless fervor. If the Railroad can't survive this, then their chances of winning this war would go from slim to zero.

'Heh, no pressure…nooo pressure at all.'

Artemis reached a hand up to her right ear, fingers tapping on a metallic earpiece placed there.

"Huntress to Alpha. Huntress to Alpha. Do you copy?"

For a few seconds, all that could be heard was static in the airwaves until she heard Desdemona's voice respond.

"Alpha here. What's your status?"

'Yes! The communicator works!' Artemis giddily thought.

"Everything's quiet for now. Traps are in place and our sentries are standing guard."

"I see…I hope they're ready. The Institute will be coming as well."

The ex-courser sighed. It was expected, but a small part of her had hoped that would not be the case. Nonetheless, the defensive perimeter that had been set up was done exactly with the Institute in mind. How effective Artemis and the Railroad would prove to be against them would depend on how many synths they would throw into the battle.

"I guess that was to be expected," Artemis responded, "Still, how did you find out?" A moment of pause before Desdemona spoke again.

"Charmer stopped by to confirm our suspicions," the agent listened carefully as Dez continued speaking, "The Institute will be making a move on Bunker Hill, but according to her, their Director had sent just one Courser along with our mutual friend to recover the packages."

"Just her and a Courser?" Artemis asked incredulously, "That's…actually understandable. No better opportunity to sneak by us and catch us with our pants down when we're occupied with the Brotherhood."

"My thoughts exactly…" came Dez's response as her voice trailed off. Silence fell between them and for a moment Artemis thought that her boss shut down the radio or that the earpiece failed when Dez spoke again.

"Huntress?"

"Yes, Alpha?"

"…I'm asking too much of you already but I'm not sure about Charmer's endgame. Which is why as soon as you spot them, I need you to keep an eye on her and the courser's movements…" There was a pause from Desdemona and Artemis could hear her take a deep breath over the line, "If Charmer harms those under our protection…if her allegiance is now with the Institute…" Another pause, like she didn't want to finish what she was going to say. However, the Huntress easily guessed what Desdemona was about to ask of her.

"I understand, Alpha," Artemis said, the determination in her tone stifling her slight unease with the situation, "I'll do what needs to be done."

"…I honestly hope it doesn't come to that," Dez's voice sounded rather weary than demanding, "But if it does…just…" a sigh, "…just make it quick."

The Huntress had never heard her boss sound so unsure, so vulnerable before. Come to think of it…

No. There was no point in mulling over whatever was happening between Dez and Charmer. That was their business and they would sort it out in due time.

If Charmer survives this battle, that is.

"Understood, Alpha."

"Thank you, Huntress," Desdemona said, "All that's left to say now is good luck…and give them hell. Over and out."

The communication line went silent as the Huntress sighed, looking around the settlement. The Railroad heavies remained in their assigned positions, waiting for the impending attack from both of their sworn enemies.

As she walked around the settlement Artemis unsheathed her electrified sword and stared at it for a few moments. She gripped the hilt tightly with one hand, while she caressed the blade with the other.

"I hope you make the right choice in the end, Aveline," the Huntress muttered to herself, "I really don't want to stain my blade with the blood of someone I consider a friend."

The ex-Courser was starting to feel the weight of everything she had been entrusted with. But she was going to push on. She would repay her debt to Desdemona and help the Railroad by showing everyone that despite the many times they've been knocked down and brought to the brink of annihilation, they still had plenty of fight left in them.

The day could not get any more demanding than this…

"Artemis!"

She froze at the sound of that voice. Her sword fell from her fingers and clattered to the pavement as she dared not to look behind her.

'No. No, no, no, no, please don't let it be her.'

The Huntress turned around and her stomach dropped upon seeing Isabel approach her. At the mechanist's side was an ever familiar robot who was now sporting her new assaultron design. The two were coming down from the northern road, the only one that hadn't been covered with mines as the path led to Minutemen territory. She breathed a sigh of relief for a moment before wondering what the hell Isabel was doing around here in the first place.

"Isabel? Ada? What are you two doing here?" she asked and judging by Isabel's reaction, she must have spoken in a sharp tone. She could kick herself for that.

Isabel's relieved smile died down, puzzled to see Artemis in an agitated state. The woman usually greeted the young mechanic more warmly. As she tried to find words to respond, Ada stepped in and spoke for her.

"Greetings, Artemis," the sentient assaultron responded, "Isabel had been procuring materials to complete some of her latest projects. We felt that the merchants of Bunker Hill would have a wider selection to meet her needs."

"But what about County Crossing?" the Huntress asked, raising an eyebrow, "Don't they have a market?"

"We were coming down from there just now," Isabel responded, "I got some scrap that I needed but they're out of aluminum." She then took a moment to look around and towards the settlement behind her girlfriend, "Why does Bunker Hill look closed down? And what's with all the guards?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

For once, Artemis felt at a loss for words. Of all the things she had tried to prepare for, running into the young mechanic in a place that was minutes away from becoming a warzone was not one of them. It was not going to be easy to get Isabel to leave without possibly blowing her own cover as a Railroad agent.

However, as luck would have it, it seemed there would not be time to worry about that for long…

"Huntress!" a Railroad Heavy called out to her as he approached the ex-Courser, oblivious to the withering glare she shot in his direction from behind her goggles, "We're starting to pick up radio chatter from Brotherhood troops in the area. It looks like they're going to arrive shortly!"

"I already know they'll be here soon!" she snapped back, "All you need to do is make sure that everyone's in position. Now move!"

She watched as the agent gave her a sloppy salute and turned around to rush back to the settlement. She spoke as if Isabel had not been there, but the situation required her full attention, as a lot of lives were riding on this fight. But the young woman was not as naïve as others would think and Artemis braced herself for the incoming questions.

"Artemis…why did he call you 'Huntress'?"

"Isabel, listen to me," the synth turned around and approached the other woman, placing her hands gently on the mechanist's shoulders, "This place won't be safe for you. You need to leave now. Go back to County Crossing or to the bunker. I'll…I'll meet up with you later."

Isabel shook her head as her mouth etched into a frown. "You still didn't answer my question. What do you mean this place won't be safe? What the heck is going on?"

"Do you require our assistance, Artemis?" Ada interjected.

The synth was becoming increasingly frustrated as the seconds ticked by and Isabel and Ada were still sticking around instead of heading for safety. She knew she would have to explain to her lover one day what she truly did for a living but this was the worst possible time to do it. She let out an exasperated sigh as she felt soft hands gently touch hers and Isabel's eyes gaze into hers.

"Artemis, please, what is going on? Tell us what's wrong."

The pleading voice with which the young mechanist asked her was enough to grip her heart. She could not deny her but this…this was not the moment.

"I'll explain in due time, Isabel, but for now you both need to-"

A loud and distant explosion interrupted her, and from there, she could hear the shouts of pain and anger. Artemis turned to look and noticed a mini mushroom cloud in the distance, the telltale sign of someone tripping a Nuka Mine.

"Brotherhood ground troops have walked into one of our minefields!" She heard one of the heavies report.

The sound of whirring blades from multiple vertibirds in the distance grew louder as they neared the settlement.

"Six vertibirds spotted! Four from the east! Two approaching the main gate!"

"Make that eight! Two approaching from the west!"

It was too late. There was no room for any thoughts other than the situation at hand.

The Battle for Bunker Hill had begun.

…

A/N: Well, this was part 2 of the previous chapter that I tweaked a little. Including the cameo appearance of one of my favorite weapons from FNV, the Anti-Materiel Rifle.